


Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor

by pseudosmodingium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, Dean Winchester is Saved, First Kiss, Franz Ferdinand - Michael, Gay Club, Has this been done yet?, Inspired by Music, M/M, POV Outsider, Post-Season/Series 13, Rescue Missions, mature rating for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 16:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15417195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudosmodingium/pseuds/pseudosmodingium
Summary: Everyone’s been obsessed with the handsome stranger named Michael from the moment he’s first set foot into this gay club. He’s distant and never lets anyone get close to him, though many would very much like that. When Michael begins to show what he’s capable of on the dance floor, he becomes even more irresistible. After months of spending the night dancing like a god and breaking hearts, one man finally manages to get through to him.





	Beautiful boys on a beautiful dance floor

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was solely inspired by Franz Ferdiand's song "Michael". If this isn't used in early season 14 then what's the point?

_…Michael you’re dancing like a beautiful dance whore_

 

All the boys love Michael. All the boys _want_ Michael. Bodies moving to the thrumming beat, tight shirts clinging to sweaty skin, the room packed with people. Still, everyone just has eyes for Michael.

He usually starts slow, hitting the bar first, ordering the same drink every time, though never even touching it, his back against the counter, watchful eyes observing the club, like boys dancing is the most fascinating thing.

He came here for the first time a few months ago, preferring to stay all by himself, passing on every guy who was confident enough to hit on him, though not impolitely, studying them with big eyes for a moment before turning down their offer. Everyone was curious about the new guy but he seemed off, unapproachable. Yet, thanks to a handful of bold men, we know that his name is Michael. At least that’s what he’s told them with his calm, silky voice. Some interpreted the exchange as an invitation, a challenge to convince him that they were special and should be the one Michael decides to take with him, doing all kinds of beautiful things to them. Others saw a threat in the way Michael dismissed them—eyes hungry, but not in a good way, like a wild animal ready to attack.

He’s attractive, with his long lashes, ash-blonde hair and freckly cheeks, no-one can deny that, and there’s something about him, something mysterious. His clothes make him look like he’s fallen out of time. Some have even speculated that he might be a time traveler from the nineteen-twenties or thirties, claiming that this would explain why Michael appears to be so transfixed by his surroundings—the electronic dance music, the way people dress and behave, men touching and kissing each other freely.

His style is, too, out of this world, very much dressed up, almost like he’s going to a costume party. Others think he’s just a hipster, a fashionista.

The only skin Michael ever shows is that of his forearms when he takes off his jacket to roll up his shirt sleeves. And who can resist a man in a waistcoat, its snug fit hinting on a broad, muscular chest underneath it, suspenders begging to playfully be snapped. Expensive shoes, certainly handmade, and tailored pants round off the ensemble. His outfit never changes, yet the thirst for bootlegger Michael continues to be insatiable.

For weeks, however, Michael did nothing to initiate contact with the other clubgoers. And then, one night, the miracle occurred. Michael rose from his barstool, creeping towards the dance floor, like his one purpose in life was to get exactly there and nowhere else, and people stopped moving, shocked and thrilled to find Michael in their midst. Some even say the music died for a moment as everyone stood there but that’s a myth, obviously, ‘cause the next thing that happened was Michael closing his eyes, inhaling the tension in the room and knocking the breath out of everyone’s ribcages with the first sway of his hip. And after that there was no holding back. Gifted dancers know how to really feel the music but with Michael it’s like he _is_ the music, like he’s floating on the same wave of electricity and becoming one with it.

Since then, Michael can be found on the dance floor every night. He still gets his drink first, still never even tastes a drop, and then he puts on a show.

Dancing, so it seemed, would make it easier to get close to him, to find an excuse to touch him, to enclose Michael’s narrow waist with longing hands and to feel the rocking of his hips under clammy palms, maybe even dare to press a kiss on a stubbly jaw. But Michael is like a strong, beautiful lion, effortlessly keeping the hyenas off of him that try to invade his space. When dancing didn’t turn out to be a sufficient enough mating ritual, some guys hoped to approach him in the bathroom, leading Michael into an empty stall and begging him to let them suck his cock or fuck them or both, but not once he went there. So whenever they saw Michael head for the exit in the early morning hours, they’d follow him, trying to see if he’s still this beautiful at dawn but every time they got there, Michael was gone, no matter how close behind him they’d been, like he’s been swallowed by the earth.

For the majority though, watching is enough. Michael’s giving grown men wet dreams like they’re pubescent boys again. The stranger, who himself seems age- and timeless, makes them feel young again.

 

One night, five new faces appear in the club—two beefcakes, two red-headed lesbians and a twink. They stand out because there are mostly regulars in tonight. They discuss something as they take a lookout on the gallery before splitting up, the girls staying together. The tall guy has already attracted a few groupies. He seems slightly uncomfortable, politely trying to get rid of them so he can continue his determined walk to wherever he intended to go and then it becomes clear what, or rather _who_ his aim is. They seem to know each other ‘cause when Michael meets his eyes from the center of the dance floor, he smiles. But it’s not a welcoming smile, rather a dare. The tall one gulps and looks over to where the redheads are drawing something on a wall with what must be invisible paint or so. Then the twink joins him in a rush, gesturing towards the dance floor. The third guy is approaching Michael from behind, like that move’s ever worked on him before. Abruptly, Michael spins around like he’s sensed the guy coming closer and the newbie clenches his teeth when Michael tilts his head and examines his face. Tall Guy shouts something that sounds like “Cas” (or maybe “Ass”, depends on who you’re asking) and Cas signals the glamorous one of the lesbian couple, whose eye make-up is spot on, to do whatever whilst the nerdy one leaps into another corner of the room. The guys separate again as well while Cas is still angrily trying to seduce Michael or whatever he’s attempting to do when he’s framing Michael’s face with his hands. For a second it seems like Michael wants to push him away but then his facial expression changes and he looks disoriented. Cas talks, monotonously, in a foreign tongue, as other people on the dance floor would later claim, probably Latin or some other dead language.

What comes next is hard to tell because the song is accompanied by strobe lights and Michael’s and Cas’s eyes appear to glow but it’s likely just an illusion and one has to admit that Cas’s eyes especially are an extraordinarily vibrant blue color. The music is too loud to really tell but the girls and their guy friends are screaming stuff at each other from different parts of the room which is totally pointless in a loud club.

Cas now has one hand on the back of Michael’s head and the other on the waist that others have wanted to touch for so long. They’re not even dancing, only swaying slightly as if there’s currently an eighties soft rock song on. Michael’s eyes are glassy with tears and he’s shaking but Cas is holding him tight and whispering into his ear. No-one knows what exactly they’re witnessing, if it’s the end of a lover’s quarrel or if Michael has finally found his long lost love. Maybe that’s why he rejected everyone else—because he only ever loved Cas and thought he’d never have him.

Suddenly, there’s a light so bright everyone has to close their eyes and then it’s pitch dark and completely quiet except for the nervous mumbling of the crowd. However, a few seconds later the lights switch back on and the music continues where it left off.

Cas’s friends look warily at each other but the tiny elegant lesbian gives them two thumbs up and everyone lets out a breath in relief. Tall Guy starts to head towards Michael and Cas but is held back by his young friend. Michael still seems to try to remember where he is while Cas is rubbing his back and wiping a tear off his cheek with his thumb.

Many envious eyes watch as Michael’s finally fix on Cas’s and for endless seconds he just stares before eventually leaning into his space and kissing him, with caution at first, but when it becomes clear that Cas is totally onboard, there’s no holding back of any repressed feelings there might’ve been. Cas’s friends are watching, the entire club is watching, but they don’t give a fuck.

Two songs later they eventually stop their public make-out session, faces red from flush and beard burn, lips swollen, and as soon as they’ve left the dance floor, Tall Guy pulls Michael in the tightest hug ever, only barely holding back tears. Michael looks away shyly after they’ve separated but the nerdy girl high-fives him and playfully punches Cas’s shoulder and gives both of them a hug as well. They seem to come to the conclusion that it’s time to go but Michael gestures the others to walk ahead so he and Cas form the tail end of their group and when everyone’s back is turned on them, he slips his hand into Cas’s.

The boys who have fallen for Michael refuse to give up their hope that he will soon dump Cas or whatever his name really is, and that Michael will continue coming to the club and eventually give into their advances but with every passing week the chances that Michael will ever return dwindle.

Everyone else, though, is happy for Michael, even if they, from time to time, dream of switching places with Cas on this very dance floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what song I was listening to on repeat when I wrote this...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
